Double Spiral
by So Guhn
Summary: He asks questions and she imprints spirals on every petal. SakuraxSasuke


A/N: It's SakuSasu again; bear with me. XD

The idea came from CLAMP's 'Tokyo Babylon' manga. It also could be found in the 'Lament of the Lamb' series as well. If you have read either/both then you understand what I applied from them to this fic; 'Ringu' (By Koji Suzuki) is to be blamed for the title. –hides under desk- I'm attempting (OMG!) this as a two-part fic. But since I've only done one-shots –pokes style- it will be bad.

I have a feeling I'll be at shot in any moment.

Beware, that this is very, _very _short.

Disclaimer: Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto, all it's other respected owners, and not me. Please pardon me, I have to go cry in my pillow now.

Title: Double Spiral

Rating: PG-13-ish? Rating may go up.

Pairing: SakuraxSasuke

Summary: He asks questions and she imprints spirals on every petal.

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_First Half_

_If she looks in the mirror…_

---

The place was truly what one could call a 'ghost-town', it was empty, hollow, and carried the overlaying air of sadness that comes from a place that has experienced death. _But too much death _Inner Sakura whispers and Sakura shivers, the cold night air rushing past her like a carefully thought-out stroke of an ink laden brush.

She was afraid to go in.

It had taken hours to convince herself of even setting a foot in _here_, of all places. But she was desperate to see him once again; and this time she was certain she would make him stay. He would not leave.

She wondered if he hated this place. What remained of a place where his strong clan had resided, lived, breathed, grew- and died. She knew if she was in his place she would. But Sasuke was not like her, and despite him not seeming to be one that carried feelings over sentiment value; this place was all that was left. _Liar _Inner Sakura taunted half-heartedly, since this place was only a place, a burnt out shell.

Everything looked old. One could tell by just glancing at the fading paint, the broken windows, dark stains that would not go away, that it was no longer inhabited and had been as such for years. She shuddered a deep churning feeling aching through her chest and gut as she passed through, feeling very much out of place with her clothing that had only a white ring.

One, it was only one she noticed. A large slightly more traditional looking home that had a lit lantern at the gate. By its size she could only guess whether or not it was the main house. Stepping hesitantly over to it, wary of a trap she plucked the lantern down and let it light the cold ground to help her avoid falling, it wouldn't do any good if she were to trip on her mission and end up with a twisted ankle- a part of her thought sardonically. Where she was going would take time too, she knew that- even though she was half way there it would take up an immense part of the night. She had already wasted enough time dawdling at the entrance gate. Worrying over if she had gotten all the layout of the land right and if she was going to be able to find _it _with all the dark.

She was a fool to hesitate.

Gripping the handle of the lantern sternly with a grip in control; she knew Tsunade would be proud of- she made her way closer to the center of her answer.

---

He came out of the shrine walking, a walk that had such grace for death she was sure, appearing with no flush apparent on his skin, and his eyes were hypnotic (_sharp comas rounded but not blunt, far more dangerous than the katana he carried at his hip)_. _Wrongwrongwrong_. 'Shut up, Sakura,' She felt herself scowl, until-

"It has been a while," he said a feeling of traitorous euphoria spreading from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet like the heady rush of a new drug. His voice was the same, calm and composed, she felt almost chilled how his face lacked expression. She was looking at red blood eyes and spiral pupils so she didn't understand why she just felt so _damn happy, _those eyes bestowed only death and she paid no heed to the kunoichi instinct in her to rush at him with her kunai.

"It has been a while," he said softly, her eyes had started to take in the little details of him by moonlight (_on the slender curve of his neck the sharp red marks, as if someone- )_. She feels herself gulp nervously. He was almost the same she thought, a lot like the last time she had seen him; blue-black raven hair (_that will fall through your finger like water and silk)_, white skin _(she swore was paler than milk), _and features that clearly exclaimed him of the house of Uchiha _(along with having high cheekbones and slender hands, he still wore that fan insignia on his back.)_

He looks like he is changing his mind about something; holding back a sigh. She thinks he does not know how exasperated his face looks in this moment.

She frowned, Inner Sakura trembled withanticipation and-

"_Sa-ku-ra_," he was almost talking wistfully now, a change of tone she had never heard grace his voice and he almost sounded foreign. The wind chilled her and she realized that perhaps her medic-nin getup may not have been the best to wear without a cloak on such night to meet him. He shook his head in a dismissing fashion, "Are my eyes still better than yours?"

It stretched and coiled itself around her chest, the sudden heavy pressure of panic as she realized- this place. With its endless rows of bloomed sakura trees. The petals falling in time with the wind, covering the grass like rippled blanket of pink snow, the scent of _lilies…_

And she thinks back on how when ever in close proximity she had found herself by him… how that scent was under laying on him, in his clothes (_after he left she dared to walk through the one room apartment he had lived in since the massacre_,_ she had taken one shirt of his out of the drawers. Crying her broken heart out against it while taking his fragrance in_) his skin (_she was never close enough even when he lay in the hospital bed, tied up to those damn tubes. Her hand clasped in his_), his hair (_she often wondered if it was softer to touch than her own_), his- and she wants to gag a nausea speeding through her belly fast and callous since. _Brother. _And she hates that man, hates him with all the fiery sole of her being, and she swears if Sasuke had not claimed to kill him first she would since. It was Kakashi, Naruto and her- the granny from the sand who. Saw him, and she knew he was _him._ Unseen blood of his family she could _see_ stained his hands and _the scent of lilies._ Which had swept through the air, captivating Naruto for its-

_Familiarity._

At the time she though hesitant, Naruto must have sensed it too. Smelled it as well. Something like Sasuke and not Sasuke at all. It was enough to make anyone twist the knife just to feel something that was nostalgic.

"The scent…" she whispers and he almost smiles sadly; that itself is a stab to the heart, for Sasuke would never, _ever_ smile like that for _her_. And she knows hands fisted, teeth clenching a sardonic murmur in her ear that _he_ was here, had been. With eyes glimmering with her harden resolve she lifted her head, heart for him in her hands once again (_cut and bleeding only for him_). She would have him. She _would_.

She opened her mouth to speak honestly; no shards of glass could pierce them but-

"Did you know," and she notices for the first time under the red moon, that his eyes have faded to a dark purple in the light. He turns his head to look at a tree, footsteps slight and quiet, petal dappling his shoulders and tangling in his hair. His voice a soft fire, burning at the edges of her skirt, her hair, _her heart-_ "That sakura are actually white?"

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating and her hand goes immediately to the back pouch she carries, Naruto's words echoing in her head, '_I'll bring him back'_ and tears are running down her face, she knows Naruto _can't. _But then as a weak, a hopeful little girl, relying on her strong, brave, foolish friend was warm and comforting and _familiar_. And she loved it like that but,

No more. Inner Sakura is shaking inside of her, crying out- desperate that she _covers her ears_. Sakura doesn't, a part of her (_dying, the crying child, all you can do is weep you useless-_) wants to hear what he says. His words are of an important few (_thank you_), she smiles, the warm wetness running down her face a relative now she pulls out the fallen hitaiate with the leaf slashed across. It seemed he was cursed to always look in mirrors. And she… she was cursed to break them. She would always cut her hands. No matter that the light is convincing, that she is content enough to just lick her wounds and bandage them carefully in thin gauze, salve put to the side since _she doesn't need it_, a part of her (_needy, when did you get so confident after all-_) unnecessarily wants to be the one gazing in the mirror for once.

She shakes her head and does not even think to flinch away when his right hand reaches up to cup her cheek a thumb rubbing at her tears, his black sleeve falling away for her to notice the fresh red cuts decorating his arm winding up and down it straight lines that intertwined with each other in a rhythm she could tell he was accustomed to. Cuts that were kanji, they were to a counter-attack spell that had failed. And she thinks of the eternal enemy that had been with him moments ago and focuses on not grinding her teeth in frustration.

"Under each tree," he is whispering now, bringing his face closer to hers; she can feel his breath over the bridge of her nose the best and she is surprised at how warm it is. A hand is in her hair now, fingers curling cleverly around the base of her skull and under the band of the hitaiate and through her short hair, rubbing themselves against the locks in a lie of sorts. She does not remember when she has ever felt so warm and words she meant to say are sealed off and all she wants to do it sleep. Press herself against the figure _so close_ to her, and yet (_how super frivolous, you don't like snakes all too much don't you remember you little-_) she will not and daringly she swerves upward eyes closing to press her lips to his. They are soft and she realizes already swollen from another's mouth but despite that she keeps kissing him. Taking the bottom lip between her teeth or sticking a tongue inside to roam; hands clutching at his shoulders, the feel of petals between her fingers, sensitive to the tips. She clutches them against her fingers somewhat desperately, leaving fingerprints; spirals on the velvety surface.

When she is done she realizes she can never be done, but before she claims his lips as her own again he slides the right hand to press between the blades of her shoulders and (_this is_) eyes wide again she cannot move now.

"There is a corpse."

Both his hands are in her hair now. Her body cannot help but start to shake and her heartbeat has gone up to a constant pounding that makes her ears hurt and her breath shallow. And-

She knows why there are _so many_ sakura trees in the Uchiha district.

"Then the graves…" the graves she never found on any map and her whisper is heard in this dead of night. Her head curving in a half circle as she looks up to the pink blossoms with a bit of kindling understanding, her neck stretching in a bit of an arc. She feels somewhat weary.

"Yes," he says and kisses her forehead with such a tender fondness in his eyes she shudders and wonders if his eyes are looking through her (_at another mirror_).

She grips the hitaiate in one hand tightly and gently let's it go, allowing it to clatter on the smooth stone path below. It covers four stones, blue cloth a fell waterfall and she doesn't care to count. He frowns and she kisses his forehead back; hands untying the loosen head band's knot and steadily she smiles when she hears it clatter in joining the other. She would be his replacing corpse. She shakes out her hair and nods, familiarity suited her best after all she realizes and takes his hand in hers.

"Let's go," she softly says. And his hand is smaller then she had thought but it is as surprisingly warm like his breath; that comforts her and she thinks she loves him more. He nods eyes half-lidded for a second long enough for Sakura to take in the fragility of his long lashes before she shakes her head to rid on-coming thoughts. Or doubts. She is ready this time.

She doesn't answer his question until they are nearing the village of sound, Inner Sakura requesting that she ask Sasuke to get her some mochi. "Yes,"

He looks at her blankly before nodding almost curtly a small smile on his lips; and she's curious about the jade green reflecting in his eyes as he looks into her emerald ones gratefully.

---

…_she may see half a spiral…_


End file.
